


Locked Out (But In Heaven)

by wutangs



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Finger Sucking, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 07:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wutangs/pseuds/wutangs
Summary: Taekwoon's new neighbour is a nuisance until he's not.





	Locked Out (But In Heaven)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hakyeonni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/gifts).



> Hewwo this is for mev pls enjoy
> 
> Reposted from woojico :)

_ “Murder on the dancefloor, you better not kill the groove~” _  


Taekwoon sighs deeply and seems to feel it within his soul. It’s stressful enough that his entire exhibition is due to be held in less than a week-- even more so that he hasn't even  _ finished  _ three of his main pieces--but now his neighbour has taken to listening to music at full volume. 

It’s happened every single day for the last week, female voiced pop songs bleeding through the paper thin walls. Taekwoon thought he could handle it, but his steely patience has begun to wear thinner and thinner with every high note and repetition of the same three chords. 

His paint brush slips from his grip, clattering against the plastic covered granite flooring. Smears of deep blue paint stain the material and Taekwoon bends over with a groan, picking up his brush and disregarding the new paint marks amongst the hundreds of others against the plastic tarp. When he straightens, he stretches his back with a groan and sighs again, staring at his work.

It’s a portrait of his friend Wonshik, painted all in hues of blue. His face is sharp and angular as always, Taekwoon trying to keep a sense of realism in the painting. This is his third last to finish, as he still needs to copy the same portrait two more times in both reds and greens. It’s exhausting to think about, especially as he’s spent all day fixing and finishing tiny details and he still feels unsatisfied with the way the acrylic paint version of Wonshik looks. The music isn't helping him either, too loud and invasive for his thoughts to process anything other than the song playing.

Taekwoon sighs once more--probably for the thousandth time this week--and decides he’s just better off cleaning his brushes and calling it a day before the soft lines around Wonshik’s eyes become deep and haggard with angry strokes. 

  
  


♢♢♢♢♢♢

  
  


“Can I see it?” Is the first thing Wonshik asks as he shoves himself rather unceremoniously through Taekwoon’s door. Hakyeon is on his heels, snorting at the way Wonshik moves through Taekwoon’s apartment like an excitable puppy.

Taekwoon follows after him in a panic, just managing to block Wonshik from entering his studio with a shout. “It’s not done yet!” He spreads his arm across the door frame, palms meeting with a thumping sound that jolts up his wrists. 

A soft pout forms upon Wonshik’s face, specifically the one Taekwoon hates because he can never refuse. He looks like a scorned child, bottom lip poking out as he bats his eyelids. “Why not?” And Taekwoon can almost  _ hear _ the frowny face emoji. 

“I--I’m not happy with it…” Taekwoon admits, relaxing as he remembers that there’s a loose sheet covering his work, considering it’s gone untouched for a few days. It’s frustrating and he feels lazy and unproductive, but there’s no way he can work to the best of his abilities when his neighbour plays Madonna at all hours of the day. 

“Let the man do his work.” Hakyeon chimes in, pivoting the conversation just the slightest. “How are you feeling about the exhibition?” 

Taekwoon sighs and allows them through the door to his studio, deciding that it’s safe to let Wonshik in while the sheet is up. Wonshik can be invasive at the best of times, but he does have basic respect. “I’m feeling okay, I guess. I’m having a lot of trouble with these last few pieces.”

“Wonshik’s?” Hakyeon enquires as they all step through the threshold. 

Taekwoon’s apartment is furnished in a modern and minimal way. Everything is monochrome, a few plants scattered around to liven things up. His studio is a whole other story though. The walls are lined with bricks, mismatched in an oddly charming way. One side of the room is windows from top to bottom, the sun filtering in perfectly at all hours of the day. It’s warm and homely, everything perfectly in place after years of trying to organise his space to maximum efficiency. Every time Taekwoon steps in to work, he feels like he's entering a new world.

“Yeah, just the last three.”

Wonshik seems to pout even deeper, eyebrows furrowing. “What? Why?”

“I’m sorry, Shikkie...” Hakyeon says dramatically. “The results are in and you’re ugly!” 

Wonshik smacks Hakyeon on the back so hard that the thumping sound echos. Taekwoon snorts, moving over towards his bench by the window to reorganise the brushes he’d washed and laid out in the morning. They’re dry now and he’d rather not leave them lying around in the sun to fade or become brittle. “My neighbour is a menace.”

This piques Hakyeon’s interest. “A menace, you say?” Ever the gossip, Hakyeon begins to hover around the workbench. Taekwoon can feel him loitering behind and then from the corner of his eye he sees Wonshik shimmy his butt up onto the left side. “Don’t complain if there’s paint stains on your jeans.” Hakyeon snaps towards the him and Wonshik shrugs.

“They play awful music at a ridiculous volume all through the day, sometimes even the night.” Taekwoon continues, ignoring the way Hakyeon automatically chimes in on everything Wonshik does. He’s like an overbearing parent, though they all are when it comes to Kim Wonshik.

“Not to point out the obvious, Hyung, but anything past an acoustic ballad is horrible music to you.” Wonshik says as if he’s stating the most obvious fact he can conjure up.

“God, Wonshik, you’re still holding that big fat grudge because Taek said he hates Drake.” Taekwoon can picture the way Hakyeon rolls his eyes behind him.

“Drake is a good man!” Wonshik bellows defensively.

“A sad man.” Taekwoon interjects as he organises his brushes and begins to slip them into their individual covers because he’ll need them for his classes tomorrow. As usual, he wants to have everything prepared and stacked in his backpack so he can just wake up, grab it and leave in the morning. 

A series of heavy stomping sounds come from the far left. “ _ A few times I’ve been around that track, but it’s not just gonna happen like that, cause I ain't no hollaback girl~” _

Taekwoon feels his whole body tense in a annoyance, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips on pure instinct. “See what I mean?”

“Huh…” Hakyeon grins. “I like this song.”

“You’re  _ so gay _ , Hyung.” Wonshik says with a laugh, kicking his legs so they bounce against the cabinet doors. Taekwoon wants to scold him but he can’t think very much past the song playing so loudly and clearly from next door. 

“ _ God _ !” Hakyeon scoffs. “A gay man can’t enjoy Gwen Stefani in peace!?”

“I don't care  _ what it is _ , it’s really affecting my work.” Taekwoon frowns and abandons his work bench, signalling his two friends back into the living room. He pulls the door until it seals closed, effectively shutting most of the sound out, though he can still hear it if he listens close enough. 

Wonshik makes quick work of making himself comfortable on the sofa, kicking his feet up and spreading himself out. Taekwoon gave up on scolding him long ago, so it’s Hakyeon who keeps him in his place by shoving his feet off the cushions and plonking down next to him. Taekwoon rests against the arm of the sofa and feels like his brain is going to melt.

“Do you think you'll finish in time for the exhibition?” Wonshik asks.

Taekwoon sighs--it seems that’s all he does these days--and shrugs his shoulders rather wearily. “I don’t know. I hope to, but if this keeps up I’m not sure.”

“Go knock on their door and tell them to can it.” Hakyeon suggests, though all of them know that’s impossible. 

Taekwoon is a hermit on his best days. He doesn't like to leave the apartment unless he has class, or some other art involved commitment. Hell, it took Hongbin months to convince him to hold an exhibition in his father's gallery, and even then Taekwoon still feels uneasy about being around and showing his work to so many people he doesn't know. How would it be possible for Taekwoon to yell at his anonymous neighbour when he can barely interact with the convenience store cashier without choking? It’s just not. 

“I’ll go do it.” Wonshik shrugs and moves to get up.

“No!” Taekwoon panics. “I have to live next door them and I don’t want them thinking I hate them.” The last thing he needs is to have his next door neighbour as an enemy. Things have been going so well for the past two years, and Taekwoon really loves his apartment. It would be a tragedy if he had to move out.

“Well, what do you suppose you do?” Hakyeon asks.

“I…” Taekwoon doesn't know of any options that don't sound so typically  _ him _ . He has a tendency of ignoring problems in hopes that they’ll just do away with themselves, and he knows Hakyeon is waiting for him to say it.

He doesn't need to say it though, as he pauses for too long and an all too familiar smug look washes upon Hakyeon’s face. “Ignoring this is just not working, so don't say it. “ 

Taekwoon groans and runs his hands down his face. He needs a cigarette-- _ no-- _ he needs an  _ entire pack _ of cigarettes. He has a grand total of three days to get Wonshik’s portraits finished in time and he can feel that weight upon his shoulders. It’s unmotivating and makes him feel lethargic when he thinks about it, as at this point he’d rather just wallow in self pity. He needs to get it done though, and as tempting as scrapping the pieces and just working with recycled works from years ago sounds, this final work is important to Wonshik too. Taekwoon pictures the way Wonshik’s face lit up when he was asked to be part of his work and feels guilty about even thinking of ditching it. 

“I’ll... work something out.” Taekwoon stutters and he’s sure that Hakyeon and Wonshik can hear the qualm in his voice. 

  


♢♢♢♢♢♢

  


Taekwoon feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest as he stands in front of his neighbours door. He can hear the music even from the hall, though it’s not as clear as it sounds from his studio. 

He lingers outside the door, pacing a few steps this way and that and mulling over words in his head. Another resident of the floor comes down the hall and he’s sure they’re giving him the side eye because he looks like an absolute creep. Taekwoon scratches the back of his neck until they’re gone, making a rather awkward laughing sound before brushing his hair from his forehead with a sigh. 

They board the elevator and once he hears the door close, he rips off the bandaid and knocks on the door. They’re well punctuated and rather loud knocks and they hurt Taekwoon’s delicate painter knuckles. There’s no response and the music keeps playing so Taekwoon counts to ten and then knocks once more. 

After a moment the music switches off and Taekwoon suddenly finds that silence is far too loud. Footsteps thump from the other side of the door and the click of a lock is heard, door swinging open. A guy answers, dressed in loose work out clothes and face flushed a little pink. 

He’s wearing a midriff shirt, boxy and white that stops just above his navel. A thin little strip of dark hair trails down and disappears into simple gray sweatpants, hung low on nicely sculpted hips. Taekwoon gulps.

“Can I help you?” He asks, leaning against the door frame.

Taekwoon knows he must look like a fucking imbecile, but he’s seriously blown away by the visuals of his asshole neighbour. He’s handsome to the point that it’s really rather difficult to look away and for a moment, Taekwoon is reminded that he’s a flaming homosexual who hasn't been laid in over a year. 

Taekwoon has never been eloquent, always one to choke on his words or slip up in conversation. It’s especially rare that he cannot find words at all, though right now is currently one of those nightmare moments.

His neighbour stares expectantly, perfectly groomed eyebrows raised. Neither of them say anything and then Taekwoon finds that he manages to source some words from his poor lust addled brain. “Shut up.”

_ “Excuse me?” _

Taekwoon feels his eyes grow wide, face no doubt blooming pink with a hot blush. He really just told his neighbour to... shut up. “I--I have an art exhibition in two days.” His voice is small and quiet and he hates the fact that he’s incapable of talking above fifty decibels when he’s nervous. “I need to--to finish off three pieces… and your music is very… distracting.”

His neighbour just keeps staring until he’s done talking, seeming as if he’s taking all of Taekwoon’s words into deep consideration. “I’m sorry.” He says with a slight bow. “I was doing stuff for work, I didn't realise.”

“It’s okay.”  _ No it’s not. “ _ But if you could just listen to it a little quieter for the next two days, I would really appreciate it.” His cringes at how rude and hostile he sounds, even though it’s not his intention at all. He knew this was a bad idea to begin with and he prepares himself for a hostile response from his neighbour.

It doesn't come, instead the man apologises with another polite bow. “I’m so sorry. I’ll use my headphones from now on.”

Taekwoon returns the bow. “Thank you, I’m sorry to have bothered you, have a nice day…?”

“Lee Jaehwan.”

“Jaehwan-ssi. Nice to meet you. My name is Jung Taekwoon.”

“Nice to meet you, Taekwoon-ssi.” Jaehwan offers a smile and his hand, in which Taekwoon shakes and hopes he doesn't notice the clamminess of his palms.

When Taekwoon returns to his apartment, the music has stopped and all he can think of is the tan skin of Lee Jaehwan’s midriff.

  


♢♢♢♢♢♢

  


The paintings are finished quickly with the studio silent, Taekwoon able to gather his thoughts perfectly. The exhibition goes well and Taekwoon only has a miniature panic attack once, but only because his friend Sanghyuk almost drops his wine glass all over the imported rug in the foyer of Hongbin’s father’s gallery.

By the time the night is over, Taekwoon is stumbling through his apartment door, tipsy on champagne and eagerly loosening his tie. He takes a moment to collapse on the sofa and stare at the ceiling, mulling over the night's events. Two paintings had sold, and Wonshik almost cried when he’d seen his portraits, Hongbin telling Taekwoon that it might be a piece his dad would be interested in--despite the fact that Hakyeon had spent the whole evening telling Wonshik he looked like a dirty boot with his new facial hair. The night was a success and Taekwoon finds himself grinning like a fool, feeling the happiest he has in a long time. 

A knock sounds from the doorway and Taekwoon furrows his brows. It’s 1am, and he only just said goodbye to his friends 20 minutes ago, so he’s wondering who it could possibly be. It may be Hakyeon, which seems the liable option as he has a habit missing the final train and sleeping on the sofa. 

Taekwoon groans as he gets up, feeling the way his whole body aches from the exhaustion of a non-stop day and night. He shuffles over to the door, realising his shoes are still on and quickly toeing them off and knocking them to the side. He answers the door without checking the peephole, certain it’s going to be Hakyeon on the other side but instead it’s Lee Jaehwan.

Jaehwan is… Well… Taekwoon doesn't even know what he’s looking at. He’s dressed in a long coat that looks more like a garbage bag-- probably from one of those streetwear brands Wonshik is always raving about--expensive, as if he’s just walked off of a magazine cover shoot. He looks striking with his face done up in makeup, eyes shaded in deep purple hues to accentuate their wide shape. Taekwoon finds it so hard to form words. “Uh, hey?”

“I’ve lost my keys.”Jaehwan frowns as he says this and Taekwoon’s gaze moves to his lips. They’re coloured pink, a lip tint having worn off a little so that the middle of his lips is deeper in colour. It’s a popular look for women--Taekwoon knows this much--but he’s never seen a man with makeup like this and he’s pleasantly surprised by how captivating it looks.

Taekwoon just stares because he’s not exactly sure what to do. He’s never been the best at conversation, even more so when the other person is looking like sex personified. Jaehwan seems to shift uncomfortably under his gaze, crossing one arm over his chest. “I know it’s late, but I can’t get a locksmith until tomorrow morning, I don’t know anyone else in the building and I’m sorry to disturb you but--”

“It’s okay.” Taekwoon cuts Jaehwan’s rambling off abruptly, almost choking on his words as his throat feels a little closed up. He clears his voice with a cough, hoping he doesn’t look like too much of an idiot. “You can come inside.”

It’s rather cold out, so Taekwoon awkwardly offers up a bland choice of tea or coffee, Jaehwan accepting a cup of green tea politely. They sit on the sofa in an uncomfortable manner, both of them keeping a distance from each other. There’s a sort of unaddressed tension that Taekwoon can’t put his finger on and it’s making him uneasy.

“You look nice,” Jaehwan offers, signalling to Taekwoon’s suit, “did you just arrive home?

It’s wrinkled now, tie loose and lopsided, but he accepts the compliment anyway. “Yeah, thank you.”

“Special occasion?”

“My art exhibition actually.”

Jaehwan’s full lips form into a perfect ‘o’ and Taekwoon internally scolds his drunken self for even going down that path. “Oh! How did it go? Did you get everything done?”

Taekwoon suddenly remembers his horrible first interaction with Jaehwan and flinches. “Y--yeah, thanks.”

“You’re very quiet.” Jaehwan says. “Not that that’s a bad thing, but I’ve noticed your voice is...”

“Maybe you’re just loud.” Taekwoon retorts, voice still barely above a whisper. “Where did you just come from?” He changes the subject because he really doesn't want to talk about his barely there voice, he already cops enough flack as it is.

“I just came from work.” Jaehwan says, leaning back into the sofa and making himself a little more comfortable.

“This late?”

Jaehwan hums in confirmation. “Yes. I work at a club in Itaewon.” 

Taekwoon doesn't pry because working at a club in Itaewon of all places could mean absolutely anything. He doesn't exactly realise immediately, but the conversation dies and he continues to look at Jaehwan. His outfit is neat, clean and rather expensive looking. It’s the makeup that keeps drawing Taekwoon in, the purple around his eyes and pink of his lips just far too tantalising. 

“ _ Oh,  _ I just remembered!” Jaehwan moves to rifle around in his oversize backpack and Taekwoon thinks he sees a flash of gold sequins inside. He makes a pleasant humming noise when he finds what he’s looking for, struggling as he unearths a bottle from his backpack, a toiletry bag slipping out with it. Jaehwan doesn't pay the spilled contents any mind, using his foot to shove it all to the side. He sits up, bottle in one hand and holds it up like he’s presenting a prize. “Champagne, Mr. Picasso?” 

Taekwoon huffs out a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head with a grin on his face. “Where’d you get that?” The bottle is flecked with gold, clear glass and a fancy looking label. It’s large and Taekwoon feels parched just looking at the bubbles fizz, despite the fact that he’s been sipping on champagne all night--the cheap kind that is.

Jaehwan shrugs. “Y’know, just  _ around _ .” 

“Around…” Taekwoon finds himself tasting the word on his tongue for no particular reason.

“Yeah, I take one from the clubs inventory every time I have a bad night.” He says, holding up the bottle to read the label. “This one called my name because it looks like it’s worth more than a week's tips.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry you had a bad day.” Taekwoon is empathetic because his existence these days just seems like a plethora of bad days. 

Jaehwan smiles and shakes his head, looking every bit the part of some kind of angel. “No, it’s okay, it’s a lot better now.” Before Taekwoon can ask exactly what he means, Jaehwan is standing and heading for his kitchen. “Where’s your cork screw?” 

  
  


♢♢♢♢♢♢

  


They wind up drunk on the floor of Taekwoon’s room, the french doors of his balcony opened to let the beginnings of a summer breeze in. The sounds of the city filter in, subdued but a nice background noise that would be comfort for any city dweller. Jaehwan is leaning against the side of the bed and Taekwoon is spread halfway out on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingertips.

“It’s cold~” Jaehwan whines, kicking his feet a little like a child.

“I can’t feel anything.” Taekwoon mumbles, leaning back against his free hand. “But I’ll come inside when I finish this.”

“Good boy~” Jaehwan hums, rocking from side to side. 

“You whine so much.” 

“Really? You should see me when there’s a cock up my ass.” Jaehwan snorts, moving to sit up a little straighter. Taekwoon chokes on smoke, almost coughing up a lung while Jaehwan cackles with a rather pleased look on his face. “You okay there?”

Taekwoon sits up and smacks his own chest with his free hand, coughing and spluttering and surely looking like a mess. “Nope.” He wheezes out, voice raspy and throat dry.

“You poor thing, come here and I’ll make it better~” Jaehwan propositions and Taekwoon looks at the last of his cigarette. It’s almost burned down to the butt, so he puts it out in the dirt of a potted plant before flicking the dirty filter over the edge.

He’s drunk enough that he has absolutely no qualms about crawling into Jaehwan’s lap. It seems like Jaehwan doesn't either, his voice low and flirty, hands quick to fall against Taekwoon’s ass as if he’s done it a million times before. His thighs are thick and Taekwoon has to spread his legs quite wide to seat himself, his inner thigh muscles straining uncomfortably.

“Are we really doing this?” Jaehwan whispers, an amused tone to his voice. Taekwoon is leaning above him, allowing him to grip his ass. He’s never been one to pursue baseless sex, but the opportunity is here and Jaehwan is a solid twenty out of ten so he’s not about to let this pass. They know nothing about each other besides their addresses, but at this point nothing is bothering Taekwoon. He’s drunk, horny and so sex deprived that he’d probably fuck a grapefruit if he had one in his pantry.

Sighing his rambling brain, he lowers himself down until his lips are just above Jaehwan’s, able to feel his warm breath. When their lips meet, Taekwoon sighs because he forgot just how wonderful it is to be caught up in lust with someone. Jaehwan seems to be one for the wet and messy, quick to part his lips, tongue snaking out to lick at Taekwoon’s own. They kiss but their hands never stop roaming, palms against cocks and fingertips teasing under shirts.  

_ “Off.” _ Jaehwan demands, helping Taekwoon strip out of his dress shirt. The cotton falls behind them and Jaehwan sits back, removing his sweatshirt, his coat having been shed long ago. “Condoms?” He asks rather breathlessly and Taekwoon wonders if Jaehwan is even capable of speaking more than single words now, because he certainly is not.

Without hesitation, Taekwoon leans over towards his bedside table and fumbles around frustratedly in the mess that is his top drawer. There’s an array of things in there, from chocolate wrappers to pencil shavings but Taekwoon knows he’s seen a stray condom floating around. It doesn't help that Jaehwan has taken to clinging to his back, breath tickling the little hairs on the nape of Taekwoon’s neck. The condom is pushed to the back, but Taekwoon feels his heart drop as he looks at the black printed numbers on the foil wrapping; 8/12/2016. 

He drops it back into the drawer with a disbelieving sigh. “It’s expired.”  _ Of course  _ this would happen to him of all people. A literal year without sex and the universe is cockblocking him and probably laughing too.

“You really only have one condom?” Jaehwan mumbles into his skin while pulling him back against him. The sensation is nice and feels intimate, considering Taekwoon hasn't had someone touch him this way in a very long time. 

“Well, I didn't exactly plan on fucking my neighbour. “

Jaehwan snorts and lets his arms go from Taekwoon’s waist so he can spin to face him once more. “You thought about it though.” He has a smug look upon his face and Taekwoon wants to punch him right in the arm. He’s not Sanghyuk though, so instead he just nudges Jaehwan the slightest.

“ _ Plan _ is the keyword here.” Taekwoon deadpans, already feeling his poor boner softening.

“Well, tonight is a night of celebration and you deserve to fuck something.” Jaehwan says, clapping a palm against Taekwoon’s shoulder. The gesture seems more comforting than anything, like a friend saying ‘it’s okay buddy, we can work this out.’ How pitiful. But then, “fuck my mouth,” Jaehwan suggests rather casually, a big stupid grin in his face. 

Taekwoon sputters a little, not exactly sure how to deal with the way Jaehwan is so forward. He doesn't even have time to answer, because Jaehwan starts forcing him up on the bed while he stays kneeling on the floor, settling on his knees and looking up expectantly. Taekwoon hesitates for a moment, genuinely wondering if this moment is real or a horribly realistic wet dream he’s conjured up. 

“Come on, I don't have all night.” Jaehwan presses, tugging Taekwoon until he moves to hang his legs over the edge of the bed.

“You kind of do actually.” Taekwoon rolls his eyes and shuffles to get comfortable, placing his legs on either side of Jaehwan’s kneeling form. He looks nice on his knees, and Taekwoon finds that he’s a little breathless despite the fact he’s barely moved. The champagne seems to have worn off, but he’s rather drunk on hormones so it doesn't exactly matter. 

Jaehwan is quick and nimble with his fingers, unbuckling Taekwoon’s belt before he’s even properly settled, the fly of his slacks being unzipped. “Lift your hips.” He orders, not even bothering to take his eyes from Taekwoon’s very obvious bulge. 

He does as told without a second thought, arching his back as Jaehwan assists him in shimmying out of his slacks. He wiggles rather ungracefully and Jaehwan almost loses his balance, toppling over with a laugh, black slacks resting in his hands. “Sorry.” Taekwoon apologizes quietly, cringing to himself at how unsexy things have become, though it doesn't seem to bother Jaehwan just one bit.

A tease is exactly what Jaehwan seems to be, trailing his long fingers up Taekwoon’s legs as he sits back up, rights himself and takes one look at silky smooth skin. “You shave?” He asks in surprise and Taekwoon feels his face flush pink. 

“Uh, yeah…”

“It’s cute.” Jaehwan smiles, tracing a finger along the dip of Taekwoon’s hips, touch loitering just by the waistband of his briefs. He’s not even completely naked, but for some reason Taekwoon feels entirely exposed under Jaehwan’s gaze. 

He’s slow in his ministrations, taking his time to run his fingers over every inch of skin until Taekwoon can’t take it. Every touch to his thighs sends him reeling, spiralling deeper into the lusty haze in his head. If Jaehwan doesn't hurry up, Taekwoon might just blow his load to the  _ thought _ of him. “J--Jaehwan,” he breathes out in what sounds more like a plea than anything, “please…”

Jaehwan pauses to peer up through his lashes, looking absolutely sinful. “Please, what, darling?” 

Embarrassed by the pet name, Taekwoon squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away as Jaehwan gives his cock a barely there squeeze. He throws an arm over his face so he doesn't have to look, hoping that the moonlight doesn't catch his blush and Jaehwan won’t be armed with anymore sexual ammunition. “Come on, tell me what you want, Taekwoon.” Jaehwan crawls up onto the bed and straddles him.

Taekwoon whines, he  _ actually whines _ and feels heat flush his cheeks. Jaehwan seems to love this, moving to push his hips against Taekwoon’s so their cocks meet. “You’re so hard.” He laughs a little, pushing his hips down. “Just ask and I’ll help.”

Taekwoon opens his eyes and sees Jaehwan’s barely a few inches from his face, a cocky smirk on his face as he grinds his hips against him. It seems like too much and just not enough. “Please…”

“Please what? Say it.” Jaehwan urges, leaning down to brush his lips ever so slightly against Taekwoon’s. “ _ Say it.” _

_ “ _ S--Suck my cock,  _ please _ .” Taekwoon whines, throwing his head to the side once more.

He can practically picture Jaehwan’s grin as he sinks down, making a point to tease Taekwoon through his slacks as he goes. “Look at me.” He demands rather gently, settling between Taekwoon’s legs and tapping against his thigh.

He follows Jaehwan’s orders, sitting up so he can rest on his elbows and look down at him. He looks so pretty, purple rimmed eyes and full lips and Taekwoon can’t help but feel like he’s losing his mind. Jaehwan doesn't even remove Taekwoon’s briefs, rather just untucks his cock until it’s standing perfectly straight. He starts at his balls, tongue warm and hot and Taekwoon could cry. It’s been so long since someone has blown him and he’s almost forgotten how truly great it actually is.

“Shit, Jaehwan.” He groans out when Jaehwan slips his tongue over his cock head, circling around before dipping into his slit. 

Taekwoon’s thighs tremble and Jaehwan seems to notice, pausing what he’s doing to place a kiss on his left inner thigh. He sucks and licks against the skin and Taekwoon is sure there’ll be a hickey there tomorrow as he moans. Purple, the perfect reminder of Jaehwan’s striking makeup. 

“You whine so much.” Jaehwan mocks with a snort before taking his cock into his mouth. 

He takes Taekwoon down slowly, only making it halfway before pulling off to tease. His mouth is hot, and Taekwoon wants to fuck his throat, to push his head down until he chokes on his smart remarks. “Shut up.” He says instead, hips twitching as Jaehwan finally takes him all the way. He stays there for a moment, lips at the base of Taekwoon’s cock before pulling off with a tiny choking sound. “You okay?” Taekwoon asks, sitting up and reaching out to brush his thumb against Jaehwan’s cheek.

“Yeah…” Jaehwan breathes out, eyes slipping closed as he leans into Taekwoon’s touch. “I want you to fuck my mouth. I can take it.”

“ _ Oh _ .” Taekwoon almost groans out. “O--Okay.”

Jaehwan shifts on his knees a little more, finding himself a comfortable position before bracing his hands on his own thighs. He leans forward, tongue against his lower lip and he waits. Taekwoon can only stare, sort of wishing he has a camera or his sketch pad, just something to immortalise something as beautiful as Jaehwan. His makeup has smudged a little, but he still looks like a million dollars.

Taekwoon licks his lips and finds that his saliva feels sticky and tastes of champagne. Carefully, he threads long fingers into Jaehwan’s perfectly styled hair, feeling stiff hairspray and gel that has remained surprisingly immaculate until now. He gives a small nudge and Jaehwan follows the subtle order, sinking down onto his cock once more. It’s a joint effort, Jaehwan bobbing his head as Taekwoon lazily guides him and controls the pace, caught up in the hot tight feel of his lips and tongue. It’s not long before Taekwoon can't take it anymore and begins to fuck up into Jaehwan’s mouth, the other making obscene, wet slurping sounds as he moans around his cock. 

“Jaehwan,  _ fuck _ …” Taekwoon whines. “I’m gonna fucking--” He can barely get a word out, the heat in his lower stomach pooling until it warms him, his orgasm hitting him with such force that he feels like he’s going to pass out. He cries out, sure that there are actual tears in his eyes, his hips twitching as Jaehwan continues to take him down, milking his cock and then swallowing everything without a complaint. Taekwoon feels light headed, almost like he’s having some kind of dramatic out of body experience. “ _ Shit.. _ .” He mumbles, more to himself than anything. 

“You’re welcome.” Jaehwan says from the floor, climbing up next to Taekwoon. The bed dips as he moves and lays next to him. 

“Shit, lemme,” Taekwoon mumbles, “lemme help you get off too.” His words are subdued, a little slurred and he isn't even sure if it’s the alcohol anymore.

Jaehwan swats him away when he tries to move, instead rolling over so he’s straddling Taekwoon, who is now unable to do a thing considering how fucked out he is. “No, it’s okay, think of it as a congratulatory blowjob.” He beams and Taekwoon notices there’s the tiniest smear of come against his bottom lip.

Tentatively, he reaches up and brushes it away with his thumb, offering it up by pressing the pad of his digit against Jaehwan’s bottom lip. He feels his tongue first, a tiny, gentle lick before Jaehwan opens his mouth to take the whole thing in, making sure he gets everything by laving his tongue over Taekwoon’s skin. “Thank you.” Taekwoon smiles lazily, absolutely spent.

Jaehwan pulls away, “I should lock myself out more often,” he chuckles, leaning down against Taekwoon’s chest.

“Hm, you should.”


End file.
